


A Stranger in a Strange Land

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Goblins, Hiking, Human, Kelpie - Freeform, Magic, Nuckelavee, Scotland, fae, recaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4453751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne decides to hike through the Scottish countryside as a way to mend her broken heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired a bit by Rosewaterwitch's An Awful Fix fanfic

Marianne knew that deep down this was probably a bad idea, but after Roland had humiliated her and broken her heart, getting away was the only thing she could think of doing. Dawn had done her best to try to keep Marianne home, but she needed to get away, far away. So here she was, a huge backpack on her back, her hair chopped off in the spirit of cutting off dead weight, ready to start a backpacking trip by herself across Scotland. Of course the day her plane landed it had been raining, but she was not going to let that stop her. First, she needed something to eat. Her stomach was loudly telling her that the airplane food had been less than filling, so she set off into the streets of Glasgow. 

Marianne found a little pub called, Uisge Beatha, that was crowded and with cheery music which tumbled out onto the street. Marianne figured this meant either the food or the service was probably pretty good. She managed to grab herself a stool at the bar and sat down, ordered a bowl of potato and leek soup and some ale. Even when it was realized she was an American, they greeted her like family and soon she was learning a great deal about the countryside, the best places to set up camp and, of course, stories. 

Instead of heading out, the pub owner's wife convinced Marianne to stay the night in a tiny, yet quaint room above the pub, assuring the younger woman that tomorrow would be a beautiful day. And surprisingly, it was. She set off on her hike across Scotland with her backpack a bit heavier with some food and drink. Her heart was lighter as the sun shone down brightly. A few hours later though, Marianne was cursing. Apparently a good day in Scotland meant it rained only later in the day. Marianne fumbled around pulling her hood up as the rain began to fall heavier and a thick fog started to roll down from the hills around her. It was eerie the way the fog moved, as if it had a purpose. She shivered and kept walking, thinking that camp ground couldn't be that much further, she was sure she saw a sign for it. 

After about an hour, the rain settled down to an occasional drizzle, but the fog was very thick, making all the sounds around her muffled and making her feel completely alone in the foreign landscape. She quickly raced through her memory of reading about Scotland, how many axe murders or muggings happened in the countryside? She slowly turned around, but the fog was just as thick behind her as it was in front of her. 

She took a deep breath and said to aloud, “You wanted adventure, well you got it. So deal with it, Marianne!” 

She straightened her backpack and started walking forward again. The fog slowly started to thin making her breath easier and up ahead she finally saw some sort of civilization. Up on a thick green hill she saw a cottage. It was quaint, made of stone with something green growing on the roof, but smoke trailed up from the chimney and the warm glow of light emanated from the windows. Marianne stopped, looking around herself and decided that she would take a chance, that Scotland did not have its own version of Michael Meyers hiding out in cute cabins waiting to kill American tourists stupid enough to get lost out here. 

Inside the small cottage, Bog had his pipe hanging out of his mouth as he stirred something thick and warm on the small ancient stove top. Inside the cottage, there were herbs and other things drying, giving the place the smell of an ancient apothecary. There were shelves lined with bottles of a thousand shapes and colors filled with many things, some not so nice. Bog lived alone, had lived alone for many years now, since he left the dark forest and his mother's lands. His mother still came to check on him, but unlike his father she never commented on the fact that he lived like a human, which Bog always found annoying since his father was a human, making Bog a half breed. He only did a little business with humans, trading in his skills at mixing concoctions and manual labor. 

He hummed quietly to himself as he ran his long fingered hand through the top of his messy dark hair. He happened to glance out the window and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw someone soaked, walking toward his home. He frowned deeply. No one should have been able to find the cottage; the magic around it should have kept it hidden until he released it, but despite that, there was this person walking right towards his home. A few seconds later there was a knock at his door. Bog cursed under his breath, but he walked over and threw the door open. He let the heavy wooden portal slam into the wall as he glowered at the person standing there, while he pulled his pipe out of his mouth to better level a scowl at the interloper. 

Marianne pulled her hood back, looking up to see an unusually tall, thin man stood there who gave her a rather impressive glare. His accent was thick as he snarled, “What do you want?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her upper lip curling a bit. “Well, I guess that famous Scottish hospitality doesn't spread to the countryside. I was hoping I could find a place for the night. I am wet and, well, I think I might be lost.” 

He glared at her then muttered, “Not really wise to go telling strangers yer lost. I might be an unsavory type.” 

Marianne made a face and then sighed. “Well are you going to chop me up and hide me around your cottage or are you going to let me stay and use your phone?” 

He stepped aside with a sarcastic bow allowing her to enter as his tongue rolled over the words, “I have no plans to chop you up. I am too tired this evening, perhaps tomorrow?” 

Marianne stuck her tongue out at him as she stepped in, carefully removing her jacket and backpack, trying to minimize the water flying about the room. She looked around as she slipped off her hiking boots, her eyes taking in a place that looked as if it was an illustration in a fairy tale book of a witch's house. Then she smelled something on the stove that made her stomach erupt with an embarrassing growl. The man raised his eyebrows at her. 

“Hungry lass?” She grimaced. “Maybe a little.” 

He sighed, but motioned her over to a small wooden table that held two mismatched chairs. 

Marianne took a seat and then gave him a grin, which he found to be charming despite his predilection for disliking strangers. 

“By the way, name is Marianne Fairfield. I heard that murderers have a harder time if they know your name.” 

He had gone back to the stove to stir whatever it was that smelled so divine and snorted. “Bog, and I hate to tell you lass, but I think that is only in those programs you Americans watch.” 

Marianne sighed theatrically. “Oh well if you are going to kill me, at least wait 'till morning?” 

Bog gave her an amused look. “Alright, it would only be hospitable to give you a fighting chance by making sure yer stomach is full and yer strength is up...” They both chuckled, but then Bog was scooping out thick ladles of stew into two mismatched ceramic bowls, plopping spoons into them and walking over setting one bowl down in front of her. 

Marianne took a deep breath through her nose and then sighed. “Oh. that smells good! What is it?” 

Bog smiled uncomfortably, as if unused to such an expression crossing his features and looked a bit embarrassed by the compliment. “It's just some venison stew with some old red wine I had laying around here. Nothing special.” 

Marianne took a bite and then gave him a look that told him she thought it was indeed something special. They ate in a strange companionable silence then and Bog poured her some sort of tea that tasted of spices and was comfortably warm going down. When they were both finished, he took their bowls. 

“I can help wash up.” Marianne stood and Bog tossed her a towel. “I wash, you dry.” 

They stood there at the small sink cleaning up as Bog finally asked her a question, “So what are ye doing out here in the middle of nowhere by yerself?” 

Marianne frowned a bit as she dried a bowl. “Long story short, I just needed some me time and a new environment. I had always thought backpacking would be fun and a great adventure. So, here I am.” 

Bog grunted as if he knew she was leaving something out, but did not press her about it. They finished cleaning in silence. Bog then moved over to feed the fire in the fire place. Marianne sat on one of the two chairs in front of the fire as the rain continued to fall outside. 

“Can I use your phone now?” 

Bog looked over his shoulder at her and frowned. “I don't have one.” 

Marianne groaned, flopping back in the chair. “Not even a cell phone?” 

Bog stood. “Ye can stay here the night and then I will walk you to town. I am sure someone there has a phone.” 

Bog let her have his bed as his small guest room was actually full of miscellaneous junk at the moment and he took the small couch. He laid down, his legs hanging over the end as he held a blanket up to his chin and muttered to himself, “What the hell did I just do?” 

Bog rolled his eyes at himself and then tried to get comfortable for the night. 

Marianne laid in a strange man's bed in a strange country and thought to herself that this was the bravest, stupidest thing she had ever done, but for some reason, right now, it felt like the best decision she had ever made. She snuggled into the bed and found that the bed smelled like Bog, a warm spicy scent that was both comforting and—just as she started to drift off—the word sexy moved through her mind. 

The next morning Bog and she set off on foot over the hills. The place was simply beautiful, but now that she could see the place in the daylight (and no rain!) Marianne wondered how on earth she ever accidentally found his cottage. It was not exactly on a main road. In fact, what she thought had been a road was just a path. Also in the clear light of a new morning ,she could get a better look at this reluctantly kind, yet grumpy Bog person. Today he wore a sleeveless tee shirt with a button down shirt thrown over it and left open, which gave her a nice view of his collar and hints of a tattoo at the curve of his neck near his left shoulder, though the briskness of his walk kept the shirt flapping so she could not get a good look at it.. His hair looked about the same, dark and messy and it was clear he still had not shaved. There was just a hint of grey at his temples. 

She smirked a bit as she hurried to keep up with his long strides, his work boots stomping over the countryside.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne mets some of Bog's family, secrets are hinted at, and relationships develop

Marianne had been staying in Bog's guest room now going on two weeks. She wasn't even sure how she ended up here and Bog seemed just as clueless, but the village had loved her and the next thing she knew, she was living here and helping Bog instead of backpacking. Bog, it turned out, was the local herbalist and over the last couple of weeks, he had patiently—or at least patiently for him—been teaching her about the local herbs and flowers. 

Bog had gone into town for some food while she was outside sweeping a bit when she saw two women suddenly appear walking down the hill toward her. She was sure there had been no one there just a second before. She frowned as she watched them coming toward Bog's cottage. One appeared to be a rather short older woman and the other a woman of indeterminate age, though there was something quite odd about the way they both looked. Marianne could not put her finger on what it was, but there was something—wrong about their appearance. The women saw her and both came right up to her, making Marianne take a step back. The littlest odd looking woman looked up at her, her accent thick as she smiled. “Now who be you?” Marianne blinked “Ah, my name is Marianne.” “Marianne! Now that is a pretty name. You my boy's new girl?” The other woman, who was now close enough for Marianne to see better, had light purple hair. The woman giggled. 

“Oh, this is grand! Didn't I tell you the pixies said there was a woman here!” The other woman elbowed her and hissed, “Oh, hush, Plum!” Marianne blinked in shock for a moment, thinking, pixies? “Ah, nooo. I am just staying here for the summer. I am not his new anything.” The smaller woman's eyes sparkled. “Really? How interesting...now where be my wee lad?” Marianne had to cover her mouth not to chuckle at this woman calling tall, dark and grumpy a wee lad. “Ah ,he went into town.” 

The older woman laughed. “Well that's alright, give us ladies a chance to get to know each other. Come along then. You can call me Griselda, sweetheart.” The woman took her hand and pulled her into the cottage. 

An hour later Bog returned, carrying a few very heavy bags, though he made it look easy as he stepped into the cottege where he found Marianne, his mother's best friend Aura and his Mamm. They all sat at his table where they sipped tea and had been taling. Bog's eyes went wide and he actually felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. 

“Mamm, Aura, what are ye doing here?” His mother turned and grinned. “Ah, there is my boy. We just came by when we heard you had a lovely young thing staying with you.” 

Aura giggled “Oh, Boggy, she is a delight! Have you taken her out? I mean really, keeping her cooped up here!” Aura motioned around the cottage.

Bog snarled ,“I am not keeping her prisoner! She is renting me spare room.” 

Marianne put her hands up. “Yep, nothing going on here. Just renting a room and Bog here is teaching me about herbs and stuff.” 

His Mamm narrowed her eyes at her son. “Teaching her, are ye? That is interesting.” 

Bog covered his face for a moment, his long fingers dragged down, “Just herblore and such.” 

Aura giggled again, a sound that always made Bog want to tear his hair out. “Have you told her about your fair...” 

Bog leapt across the room and grabbed Aura out of her seat, scaring Marianne, though Bog's Mamm just grunted as if she expected this reaction. Bog practically lifted Aura into an embrace and carried her to the door. “I am so glad ye both came, but it's getting late and I know you two have a ways to go. Come back soon!” 

He opened the door and shoved Aura out. He looked pleadingly at his Mamm, who walked out patting his arm as she did so, whispering loudly. “I like her; she got a fire in her breast, be perfect for you.” 

Bog groaned. “Not now, Mamm. Bye bye. Tell Da hello for me.” 

His Mamm waved her hand absently. “Fine, fine. Yes I will. See that you come to visit soon. Goodbye, Marianne. Don't let me boy give you too hard a time there and Bog.” She leveled a critical eye on her son. “You keep her safe from spunkies and the such. You know those little devils will lead her astray if given the chance.” With that, his Mamm and Aura left, letting the door close behind them. 

Bog turned around to see Marianne still sitting there with a slight smirk on her face. Bog groaned. “Gods, woman, what did she tell ye?” Marianne laughed. “I promise nothing horrible, though Aura is it? She said something about you having a ban on love? What is that all about? And what the hell are spunkies?” 

Bog surprised her because she thought it was a joke, but the darkness that fell over his face was very real. “I don't want to talk about it.” 

Marianne frowned but nodded, “I understand. I am not exactly love's advocate either.” 

Bog looked up at her sharply. “You? But why?” 

She snorted. “I was in love with a guy who didn't want me to be me.” 

Bog came over to the table slowly and pulled out a chair. “Why?” 

She sighed. “He was so good looking...” 

Bog sighed, looking down at his long fingers. “Oh.” 

“I was blind. He was a two-timing, power hungry, self-centered son of a...” 

Bog quickly cut her off. “Whoa!” 

Marianne laughed dismissively. “Anyway. That is why I keep my guard up now.” 

Bog frowned. “Yes, me too. Trust no one. I was in love once, but...it didn't work out either. I was too hideous for her. I was nothing that she wanted.” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip as she looked at him. “You are not hideous at all Bog. There is nothing wrong with you at all.” 

For moment their eyes met across the small table before both of them looked away embarrassed. 

A few days later, Bog was outside smoking his pipe. He stared off over the landscape as Marianne slept. It was early morning, the sun had just begun to rise, a time when the fey were more easily seen and a time of day here in the human realm where he could feel the call to his fey blood despite his half-breed status. He had told Marianne some of what had happened, he just didn't mention the use of a fairy love potion and how the potion had failed him. Marianne had told him more about her failed relationship with some man named Roland who, from her description, sounded like a handsome ijit. 

Especially for having cheated on someone as incredible as Marianne. She was not just beautiful on the outside, but her inside was something that fairy kings would have fought over. Bog puffed absently as he suddenly realized he would fight for her, fight for her happiness. He wanted her happy. Granted, that was probably not here with him. No woman that dynamic would be happy with a simple herbalist even if she did not know his secret. She would want more. Besides, he thought, look at him, he was not handsome. A fucking love potion had not even worked for him. 

He puffed a bit more agitatedly on his pipe when he heard the door open and looked over to see Marianne coming out of the cottage dressed in a tee shirt that was too big for her, which he suddenly realized was his and a pair of shorts that showed off her wonderful legs. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled. “Morning, whatcha doing?” 

He snorted at her as he felt a blush rise up his neck and he purposely tried not to look at her legs. “Nuthin, just having a smoke.” 

“You know smoking kills, right?” 

Bog did not look at her. “I ain't worried.” Being half fey and half goblin at that, he knew it would take a lot more than a simple smoke to hurt him. 

Marianne shrugged, then walked over and sat on the bench next to him pulling up her legs. She whispered as the early morning sun slowly rose and spilled its warm light across the hills. “Oh, it's beautiful!” 

Bog smiled, his voice soft. “Aye.” 

They sat quietly together when they both heard her cell phone ring in the cottage, the one she had picked up in the village since Bog did not have one. Marianne frowned, not expecting any calls. Bog watched her go inside and then he heard her talking. By the tone, it must have been her sister, Dawn, but then Marianne's voice rose in volume. “WHAT??? Here??? You have got to be kidding me. NO! Damn it, Dawn!!! No. No. No. I will not pick him up. Can't believe he asked you to ask me! I don't even have a car. Thanks. Did you tell him the name of the village? No? Good. Yeah. Thanks for the warning. I love you, too.” 

Bog frowned as she came back out and flopped down next to him. “My sister called to warn me. She wanted to warn me that my ex is on his way to Scotland.” 

Bog snarled under his breath. “Really?” 

“Apparently, he wants to win me back, but he has no idea where I am.” Bog nodded, but he knew that magic and fairies could provide this Roland with the ability to find them. 

He would not put it beyond any of them to do so. His mother would do it in order to push him into proclaiming himself to Marianne, whereas others would do it just to mess with him or with Marianne. 

Bog reached out and surprised himself when he patted her knee. “Donna worry, lass. Chances are he will not find this place. We ain't exactly on any maps.” Marianne smiled at him. “You're right.” She took a deep breath. “So we were going hiking in the woods today?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, going to show you how to pick mushrooms.” Marianne's smiled brightened and she surprised Bog by leaning against his shoulder and watched the sunrise with him. 

They came back late that afternoon talking and laughing, both of them tired yet relaxed. Bog showed her how to make a soup that was to die for with the mushrooms they found and later they played cards together. They talked about nothing in particular as a small fire burned in the fireplace to drive off a slight chill in the air. Marianne grinned. 

“Hah, I win again!” 

Bog snorted and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up which highlighted the lean muscles in his forearms. Marianne found that very distracting. He made the chair tilt back dangerously on the back two legs. “Oh, well you think you can beat me in a physical fight? Fisticuffs?” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes, “Is that a challenge, stickman?” 

Bog chuckled. “Oh, aye, tough girl.” 

They made a makeshift ring in his tiny living room, but their sparring started off with them mostly faking out one another. Both of them were laughing as they took swings with no real purpose and basically tried to out do each other with insults instead. The insults ranged from Scottish cockroach to American princess, nothing really stinging, just silliness when suddenly Marianne took a swing. 

Bog wasn't quite paying enough attention at the moment so Marianne's fist connected with Bog's jaw. His head snapped backward and he stumbled. Marianne yelped, grabbing him. “Oh, God! Bog, I am so sorry!!!” She dragged him over to sit so she could look at his jaw. She ran her fingertips over the reddening spot, making Bog wince just a little. 

“Nae problem, not like I haven't been knocked around before. Though you have a good arm there.” 

He chuckled and then winced a bit as Marianne ran over to his ice box and pulled out some ice to wrap in a towel. She gently placed it against his jaw. She squatted down in front of Bog, holding the ice to his jaw when both of them stopped talking and stared at each another. She always knew his eyes were blue, but this close she never realized how lovely they were. Just so clear and honest that it created a warmth that spread from her chest and up her neck. 

Bog stared at her clear brown eyes, so soft and so full of life. It was as if he could fall into them, be wrapped in their warmth. She had more spunk and life than any fey or human he had ever known. Marianne was the one to take the plunge. She moved slowly to give him a chance to stop her, but he went still as she leaned up and kissed him. She opened her mouth against his lips and he returned the kiss, reaching out to cup the back of her neck and deepen the kiss,. He leaned down. She kept her hand on the ice at his jaw while her other arm went around his waist, scooting herself between his long legs. 

Her fingers dug into his shirt, bunching up folds of material as she kissed him harder. She dropped the ice and he pulled her between his legs, closer. He wrapped his other arm around her, making her moan as his tongue played softly with hers. They were both quickly becoming lost in their shared kiss, hot breath, moist tongues, teeth brushing against lips when suddenly there was a loud knock at the door.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> conflicts and intimacies

Bog pulled away from her mouth reluctantly and cursed, “Fuck.” They both looked at the door as whoever it was knocked again and Marianne groaned when they both heard: “Come on Buttercup, I know you're here!” Bog looked down at her, his eyes wide. “It's that guy?” Marianne stood up and closed her eyes. Bog stood as well and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let me, lass.” 

Bog threw open the door to look down on a classically American good looking blonde man who easily could have played the prince charming in some story. The prince's face faltered when he looked up at Bog. “Ah, maybe I have the wrong place. I was told there was someone here named Marianne?” Bog narrowed his eyes. The fire behind them should have burned the fool, but that was when Marianne stepped up behind Bog. “Roland, what are you doing here? How the hell did you even find this place!?” 

Roland grinned, looking smug. “There was this old man gave me directions.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes trying to think who the hell it could be, but quickly decided it didn't matter. What mattered was that someone wanted to make trouble for him and 

Marianne and had led this dolt straight to his door. Bog looked down at the blonde who was pointedly trying to ignore him and talk to Marianne, but Bog had already had enough. “Shove off.” He slammed the door in Roland's face. Marianne blanched, but then snorted. But Roland would not be persuaded so easily. He actually had the gall to push open Bog's door and storm in. 

“Look, Buttercup. I don't know what is going on with you and this...” he waved his hands around as if unsure what to say and then settled on, “this monster, but I came all this way to get you back.” Bog started to move, but Marianne put a hand on his arm and glared at Roland. “Who said I wanted you back, did you ever think of that?? Of course not because you are so full of yourself!” 

Roland looked shocked to have Marianne speak to him like that and turned on Bog. “What the hell have you done to her!” 

That was when he took a swing at Bog, but Bog's temper was quickly starting to boil and he grabbed Roland's fist. Both Marianne and Roland saw it, Bog's true nature started to show, his features became more pointed, sharper and his fingers elongated ending in claws that folded around Roland's fist. Along his sharp cheeks more spikes and layers of rough texture started to appear and he gained even more height. Bog shook, trying to pull the transformation back, but he was too angry. This idiot had already somehow broken through his magic and these new emotions he felt toward Marianne—it all happened so quickly that he lost control and his half goblin nature exposed itself, spreading fast as the transformation took him. Marianne gasped, but Roland screamed. 

Bog tossed Roland across the room not with even half the strength he could have used and turned away, hiding his face behind his hands as he snarled, “GET OUT!!” Marianne tried not to stare at Bog as he turned his back to her, but she needed to get Roland out of here. She walked over, grabbed the screaming and blubbering Roland by the arm (at the same time hoping she bruised him) and hauled him to his feet as he sputtered and poked a finger at Bog. “What the fuck is that!!? Oh my God, Marianne! We have to get you out of here!!!” 

Marianne gave Roland's arm a hard shake. “Roland. Get out!” 

“But, but Buttercup??” Roland looked confused between being manhandled by Marianne and the creature that man turned into, but he did not struggle. Marianne promptly tossed him out the cottage door, slamming it hard on his backside with a hope that she hit him in his ass. She turned around and put her back against the door. She looked over to where Bog still hunched over in the corner. He tried to shield himself from her eyes and regain control of his transformation. She murmured, “What are you?” He glanced over his shoulder at her. She could see his eyes were the same brilliant blue, though his skin had taken on a greyish brown color and there were hints of layers there like leaves or something that looked like pinecone or scales. 

“Bog?” She stepped forward slowly; not that she was scared, but she did not want to upset him. Bog held out a clawed hand. “Stay back, Marianne, you donnae wanna see me like this!” 

Marianne moved over to him slowly. She reached around and took his hands from his face. She forced him to turn toward her. He could have fought her harder, but his heart wasn't in it. If she was going to shatter it, then he wanted it to happen now before the pain would become more unbearable. 

Marianne moved his clawed hands away from his face and cupped his face to hold him still so that she could study him. Hhis sharp features had become more pronounced and there were small pointed spikes that resembled stubble along his chin. Her heart hammered inside her chest. He was something other than human. Sharp spikes of hide poked through his shirt, layered across his chest. The shirt had ripped to shreds and hung on his shoulders, down his back. The most striking feature of Bog's revealed other form were the wings that had appeared from his back; they resembled dragonfly wings. She murmured in astonishment under her breath knowing what he was, seeing the connections she had missed. “You're a fairy?” 

Bog snorted. “I ain't nothing so fine.” He took a breath before he said, “ I am part Goblin. ” Marianne held onto his upper arms to prevent him from moving away. She felt him try to yank himself away from her, but she refused to let him. He didn't put his full strength behind trying to break free. His eyes finally looked into hers and he was shocked not to see the fear, hate, repulsion, everything he thought would be there in her eyes, but it wasn't there. Instead, Bog saw the glimmer that had been there when he kissed her, the start of something meaningful and deep. It was still there in her eyes. Marianne reached up to his face, cupping it between her small hands and guided his mouth to hers. Even in his transformed state, she kissed him. It was a simple kiss at first, but as he stood slowly, Marianne slid her hands down his chest feeling the roughness of his skin, the way it layered and moved as he breathed and then down to his waist which had grown smaller, narrower. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

She could feel the gentle way he ran his now clawed fingertips through her hair. “Are you certain?” His Scottish brogue was thick with pain and uncertainty and his heart thudded hard against his ribcage. He was uncertain what he would do if she rejected him—at this moment it felt like death would be a release if she pushed him away. She smiled at him. Marianne knew she didn't care what Bog was. He was Bog and she was falling head over heels for him. Bog knew without a doubt he was in trouble. This human woman who somehow had ended up in his home now had his heart, but he did not want her to give it back, even if it would kill him, it was hers. 

He sunk to his knees as they kissed. As her tongue invaded his mouth, she could feel the fangs that had grown there, but it did nothing but cause her blood to boil for him even more. She pulled the remains of his shirt off his shoulders. She ran her hands over him feeling the fey transformation, the magic of him tingled on her skin as it faded a bit, but was still there. “I want you, Bog. I want YOU.” 

He lifted her up, the wings on his back rattled a bit and she wrapped herself around him, Roland forgotten as she allowed Bog to take her to his bed. 

He was gentle as he laid her down. He helped her remove her shirt and then he bent over her and brushed her throat with his lips down along her collar, soft, a feather touch to her skin. He was stiff, afraid that she would be repulsed by him, but her small touches, gentle verbral reassurance keeping him there with her. Her eyes widened as the light coming into the room caught the wings on his back causing color to dance around the room. She sucked in a breath, then arched her back into him as his mouth and tongue moved along the sensitive skin of her neck. His bare chest pressed against her breasts, rough armored skin moved against her soft flesh, catching the lace of her bra. Heat burned her even through her bra at the feel of him. She wrapped her legs around the back of his wishing the remainder of the material between them would simply disappear. Bog slid a hand from her waist up to her breast cupping it through her bra. She shuddered at the feel of his long fingers holding her breast in his hand, the hint of claws still there since his transformation had only just started to pull back. 

He squeezed her breast gently as he bit down on her neck, sucking at the skin slowly. He pressed his groin against hers, letting himself go, letting his fey form fade a little as his mind became consumed with the woman beneath him. Marianne grabbed the edge of his jeans, which were still there and tugged on them, trying to get him to remove them. The next few moments the two of them chuckled as they struggled to get undressed. She remained in her panties and bra. Bog leaned on his arms as he looked down at her. She could see the fey under his cheek bones through his hair and along his chest, the wings shimmered and had faded away, but his eyes remained constant. 

“I love you.” She simply said it, did not think about it, did not worry about the how, whys or what ifs, she simply gave and hoped. Bog's eyes softened even more. There was moisture at the edges, but he did not seem to notice as he whispered, “I love you too.” He felt as if part of him, the broken part, had started to heal when she said those words. He could feel the truth and the magic in them. Their declaration to one another had power. Words in fairy were binding and powerful, their love was true and the magic wrapped around them binding them together, their hearts now forever linked. 

This fiery human woman, this golden spark loved him despite what she saw, what she now knew. She loved him. Bog leaned on his elbows and gathered her close, his mouth moving down over the tops of her breasts, the thumb of his right hand teasing and playing over the fabric of her bra making her whole body turn to liquid gold under him. Marianne ran her hands through his hair feeling the sharp points mixed with his hair. She groaned softly as he pulled the fabric of her bra aside and his tongue flicked over her nipple sending sweet sensations all through her body. 

The touch of his tongue created a heated trail straight to her groin. Bog covered her nipple with his mouth, slowly sucking, gentle, but used his tongue to flick and circle until she thought she might just die in delight right then. He then turned his attention to the other breast, his large right hand covered the one he had just teased and started the process over again. 

Marianne dug her fingers into his scalp. She tried not to hurt him, but what he was doing was beyond teasing—it was just riduculously, pleasurably cruel. He lifted up from her breasts and smiled down at her. “You are so beautiful.” 

Marianne chuckled as she blushed. “You are so handsome.” He stopped and gave her a look that said she was clearly exaggreating, but she suddenly glared at him. “I don't lie. Besides, how many girls can say they have a goblin for a boyfriend?” 

Bog blushed and tried not to grin as he whispered back. “Boyfriend?” 

Marianne pulled him down for a kiss and hissed, “ More than that, but for want of a better word, yes.” 

By now Bog had transformed back to looking mostly human as the two of them together worked to get the remainer of their underclothing off so that they could slide their naked bodies against each another. Bog marveled at how silky her skin felt under his hands while she felt each scar or place where the magic held onto his goblin form. Bog's skin was soft and rough, a combination of thrills as she explored his body with small, delicate hands. She felt a thrill move through her at the feel of his erection against her as his mouth continued to nip and lick over her body. 

Bog moved down over her body, licking his way lower over the soft slope of her stomach. His fingers traced her hip bones making her skin goosebump. He slid between her legs, locking eyes with her as he did so. His blue eyes burned. She could still see the shadow of his goblin self in the dim light of his cottage as his eyes asked permission. He murmured huskily, his accent so thick she almost didn't understand as he said, “I want to taste you, drink of you.” She reached down, stroked his face as he kept his eyes locked on hers. “Yes,” she moaned. He slowly licked her most intimate of areas. Her body bucked as his tongue found that little place that made her orgasm almost instantly. Bog continued to taste her. His tongue licked, his mouth sucked at her until she was nearly crying with not just the pleasure he gave her, but her emotions seemed to break over her in their intensity.

Oh, god she loved him, loved whatever he was, she was in love damn it all. Bog sighed against her as he tasted her orgasm on his lips. She could feel his heated breath and it was delicious against her skin. He found that all he wanted was to please her, to help her, to make her happy, and protect her, but most important to him was to let her be who she was. He moved up her body to look her in the eyes. 

He kissed her deeply and she shivered tasting herself on his lips. Marianne wrapped herself around him pulling him to her opening herself to him and he pushed gently into her. His hard length slid into her warm welcoming body. She took all of him, his erection filled her, the pleasure brought tears to her eyes. When she looked up at Bog she saw the same emotions reflected in the blue depths of his eyes. Her body arched against his, her hips meeting his as he ground against her. He whispered against her lips, “Tha gaol agam ort.” 

They began to move together, her legs tightened around him, moving up to grasp his hips, then sliding down to hook behind his thighs. Bog rose up on on his arms so that he could watch her face. Her eyes were closed, her head rolled back as her small fingers dug into his arms where she held on. Bog rotated his hips moving up onto his knees a bit and pulled her up so that she was sitting part way adjusting to get a better grip on her. She slid her hands up the lean muscles of his arms to his shoulders before wrapping her arms around his neck. They looked at each other as they moved together. Bog pulled her close his mouth meeting hers. She kissed him as if he was the only thing in the world that kept her breathing. 

She stiffened then, her orgasm rolling over her again as they moved. Bog captured her moan of pleasure in his mouth before he moved down her neck again and bit gently at her breast. He sucked her nipple into his mouth at the moment his pleasure met hers. Marianne shuddered again as she felt the groan of his breath against her breast and felt his release inside of her.


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our main villain is introduced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem that Bog recites is by Edwin Morgan written in 2004

The next morning when she woke, Marianne's whole body was slightly sore, but in that wonderful pleasurable way after having incredible sex—at least she was sure that this was what it felt like, never having had incredible sex before yesterday. She rolled over and stretched her arms over her head and pointed her toes with a wide grin. She could smell coffee and bacon cooking in the kitchen, but the best thing was she could hear Bog singing in Gaelic, his unshaven face glowing with happiness as he cooked. His voice rolled over the words, which sent shivers of pleasure over her skin. 

She giggled as she got up, pulling on her top and pants before coming out and leaned in the doorway to watch Bog singing and cooking. His hair was still a mess, sticking out adorably and he was wearing only a pair of jeans, the top two buttons undone and barefoot as he cooked. When he heard her small giggle, he turned, holding a pan in his hand and he stopped short, seeing her as she stood there in the bedroom doorway. He stared, but with a goofy grin as he looked at her like a man besotted. “Hungry?” he asked and she grinned. “Very!” She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist as he held the pan out of the way and they kissed. Marianne practically purred as she leaned against him. Bog smiled into the kiss, blushing despite what they did together last night. 

Roland had made it to the village after his blind fleeing from Bog's transformation. He was unsure if what he saw was real or not and he had not stopped trembling. In the village, Roland was seen as he came stumbling in but this person stayed to the shadows as they focused their attention on Roland. This was a darker fey, someone who had been trying to destroy Bog and any of the goblins he could find and this human, Roland, would be the perfect patsy to move his plan forward. He had learned of the human woman staying at Bog's cottage. Word had traveled fast through his network of spies in the countryside. The fey grinned as he slipped from the shadows to follow the blonde human. 

As he followed the human, he thought about his hate for Bog and his family. It was a long one that started with Bog's mother and her rejection of him for a human as her mate. He was Nuckelavee. He was power and menace! How could she have chosen a human over him?! Then to birth that half-breed? He had given up his watery home to pursue his revenge. He had traded his form for a human one to allow him to hide among the humans and watch Griselda's son when he crossed the veil to the human world. He would make Griselda pay for her choice; the time had finally arrived with the scared human fool and the woman that lived with her son. 

Roland sat in the village's only pub holding a large glass of midnight dark ale between his hands as he stuttered about a creature having taken his girlfriend. Nuckelavee watched him from a darkened corner, listening as the fool blubbered on about monsters and the like. Nuckelavee smiled slowly. So Bog had finally slipped, revealed his half nature not just to this ass that no one would believe, but to that pretty little princess who had been staying with him. Nuckelavee rubbed his long fingers down his chin in thought. This human could be used to strike at Bog, which in turn would strike at Griselda and that human she took for a mate. Never hurt your target, always hurt those they care about first. For a moment, he contemplated the prolonged death he had in mind for that offensive offspring of Griselda's and that human she took with and also the added pleasure of breaking the mind of the human woman that Bog had with him. Nuckelavee could not keep the smile from spreading wider across his face as his thoughts lingered on revenge and the delights ahead. 

He waited until no one was listening to the blonde human any longer and was deep into his third glass of ale before he approached, taking the stool next to him. Roland glanced over and Nuckelavee smiled at him. “I heard yer story there lad. I believe you, there are monsters among us. Prehaps I can help ye?” Roland smiled in relief that someone was finally paying attention to him. He was surprised it had taken so long, usually he had no problem getting anyone, especially the ladies, to listen to his every word which made him slightly angry that this time everyone seemed to be laughing at him behind their hands. But this man, this man recognized the truth and as far as Roland was concerned, his value. “Really, we have to kill it!” Nuckelavee smiled a wicked smile and nodded “Aye, lad. That we do.” 

Back at Bog's cottage, the remains of breakfast littered the small table and discarded clothing led into the bedroom. Marianne and Bog had ended up back in his bed. They had made love again, but slower this time, like a slow, deep burn that exploded into a riot of fire. Now she was curled against him, her head resting on his chest, her fingertips tracing lines along his skin. “Tell me about your family,” 

Marianne whispered softly as she traced her fingertips along his chest and down his stomach, tracing some scars. Bog tightened one arm around her bare shoulders, his long fingers stroking her shoulder lightly. 

“My father is as human as you, but my mother, Griselda, well she is a goblin.” He smirked with a raised eyebrow. “A goblin princess at that, but she chose my father instead of another fey. Which caused a bit of trouble. But then I came along and things changed. Instead of getting better, they got worse.” Bog shrugged. “Then I decided to leave my mother's realm to come here and live as close to being human as I could.” Marianne snuggled closer, kissing his chest. “Why?” 

Bog frowned, his fingers moved to lazily play with her hair. “I was trouble, a half breed and...” He sighed, which caused Marianne to sit up on an elbow to look at him. “And?” Bog took a breath. “And I fell in love with another fey. I convinced Aura to make me a love potion because I did not think she could love me, being a half breed.” Bog swallowed. “When it didn't work, when I realized that no one could love me even with a potion, I decided to leave. To live alone, work with what I know about plants and magic. Away from court and the fey who would never accept me.” 

Marianne traced the tips of her fingers along his chin. His blue eyes that were looking off into the distance moved to lock with her brown ones. She could see the lingering hurt there, the sense of isolation from everything, the feeling of never having been loved. Marianne leaned up and softly brushed her lips against his in a tender gesture of love. “Bog, you will never be alone again.” The way Bog stared at her, the hint of moisture in his eyes and fear there, made her heart constrict as she brushed the back of her fingers along his cheek, but Bog murmured, “Please donnae make promises you cannae keep, Marianne. With the fey, words have power.” 

Marianne smiled. “Then I swear, you will never be alone again. I love you.” 

Bog pulled her against him. “I love ye too, lass. 

He kissed her eyelids, then the tip of her nose and whispered, 

“Kiss me with rain on your eyelashes, 

come on, let us sway together, 

under the trees, and to hell with thunder.” 

Marianne giggled. “Make love to me again.” 

Bog snorted with an eager grin, “As ye command, lass.” 

The Nuckelavee led Roland, under a spell, into the woods to his body of water. To turn him into his object of revenge, he needed to be near his source of magic. Once there, keeping the human entranced, he leaned toward the water, moved his hands over it, he pulled the water up and twisted it around. It started to glow as he moved the water through the air without his fingers making contact with the water and then separated several drops from the stream of water. The droplets flowed through the air as he directed them over to Roland. The water hit Roland's eyes and moved like tiny glittering creatures to slide intothe corner of his eyes. Roland's eyes glowed almost black and murky like the dark depths of still water and then the darkness flowed into his pupils, his eyes returning to their original green. A tiny black dot floated within each iris now. 

Nuckelavee smiled wickedly. “Now Roland, I am going to give you a blade of iron. To save the woman, you must stab Bog with it.” The Nuckelavee grinned, knowing that the hated metal would not kill Bog, but would give him time to subdue him and bring the half breed and the human woman to his lair. He would only then have to dispose of this fool. The Nuckelavee, with gloved hands and great care, gave the blade to Roland and then turned him around with a movement of his fingers. Magic coalesced around Roland and, slowly, Roland started following a glowing trail out of the woods. The Nuckelavee watched him go and then signaled with his fingers at the water. The heads of two kelpies slowly rose from the murky water, their eyes glowing an angry, deep red in the forest dimming light. The Nuckelavee turned around and smiled. “Soon, we will have our revenge against the goblins' queen. Soon, my sweets.”


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland appears and Marianne finally enters a strange land.

The next day Bog and Marianne were going into the woods. Bog wanted to show her where the veil was thin and how to traverse it. What made the walk even more enjoyable for Marianne was that she had convinced Bog to wear the kilt she found in his closet. He wore it now with work boots, though he refused to tell her what was underneath. She decided at some point she was going to find out. 

As they walked up the hillside toward the dark forest, they held hands, their fingers intertwined. They entered the forest as the light seemed to vanish, which reminded her of what Mirkwood must have been like for the dwarves and Bilbo. The trees seemed to grow in size, twisted gnarled roots, moss and tall, dark green plants littered the ground. Here and there dark purple and blue flowers devoured the small rays of sun that penetrated the darkness of the wood. As they moved deeper, she started to feel something race along her skin, a strange tingle that brushed over the hairs of her arm and along the back of her neck. She looked up at Bog and he grinned. “You feel it? The magic in the air?” 

Marianne nodded. “Is that the tingle I feel?” 

Bog smirked as he nodded. “Aye.” 

They stopped to look around them. They had just entered what looked like a small thicket. Bog leaned against a tree while he still held her hand and gently tugged her against him. She could see golden flowers opening up to the sun that filtered down through the trees littering the floor of the thicket, but they were clearly not ordinary flowers. Peppered among those flowers were white blooms and delicate purple star shaped blossoms. The whole thicket was surrounded by mushrooms of varying sizes with red and yellow caps. 

She gasped in wonderment and Bog grinned like a school boy at her. He enjoyed watching her reactions. She turned on him and pinned him against the tree. “This is amazing!” Bog chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Ye think so?” 

Marianne nodded as she brushed her nose against his. “Yes, I do.” 

They kissed, a hard kiss full of newly blossoming passion. Marianne slid her hands down his chest and pulled open the buttons of his white button-down shirt so that she could pepper his chest with kisses. He sighed happily, but then blinked in surprise as she moved her hands lower, her fingers tracing the top of his kilt. “What are ye doing, lass?” He looked a bit confused as she started to pull at the bottom of his kilt. “Marianne?” 

She gave him a wicked grin. “I think it is time I find out what men wear under their kilts.” 

She slid her hands down his hips, along his thighs, feeling the lean muscles until she got to the end of the kilt and started to lift it up. That was when she discovered that he wore nothing at all under the kilt. She giggled as her hands found him and started to squeeze gently, stroking slowly, holding him in her hands as she nipped at his chin. Bog moaned deeply as her hands stroked, but when she dropped down and threw back the kilt he almost slid down the tree. Her tongue licked at him and he thought for a moment that his legs were going to go out underneath him as her lips and tongue played under his kilt. She continued pressing her lips against him, sliding them up his length to feel him harden and swell in her mouth. She ran her hands along him until Bog was forced to stop her. He pulled her up, his mouth found hers, his tongue plunged between her lips as his hands stroked her throat gently. She felt the scrape of his teeth against her lips, his tongue tracing her mouth. 

She yanked his shirt open further, popping a button or two as she yanked the shirt over his shoulders. They started to bite and nip passionately, desire driving them both. With her help, Bog yanked her jeans and panties off, dropping them to the ground. He grabbed her, lifting her up off the ground and turned to pin her against the tree as he entered her at the same time. She arched, digging her nails into his shoulders as she cried out with bliss. “Oh, Bog!!” She tightened her legs around his waist as she felt the kilt balled up between their stomachs. He pressed her against the tree and sucked at her neck as he thrust hard and deep, making her cry out again with the pleasure of it. Bog groaned her name against her neck as he almost moaned. “Marianne, oh Marianne.” 

They were both so involved that they were unaware of someone else having broken through the barrier of magic that surrounded the thicket. On the other side of the thicket, Roland stood watching them. Something seemed to move over the iris of his green eyes as he watched them, but his face showed no reaction. 

Bog's knees finally did give out and they sank to the ground, wrapped tightly around each other. He smoothly kissed a trail along her jaw as he held her snuggly against him. He stayed buried inside of her as they held each other. Marianne had her eyes closed as she smiled, laying her forehead against his briefly before he moved his lips down her neck. The soft sensation of his lips was sweet, still heating her sensitive skin. Bog murmured, his breath hot against her skin, his accent thick with spent passion, “Ye're magical.” She bit her bottom lip with a thoroughly satisfied grin. “It is nice to know you don't wear anything under your kilt.” He chuckled as he nibbled her ear. “A real man wears nothing but the kilt lass.” She giggled laying her head against his shoulder. Bog stroked his fingers through her hair and murmured softly against her ear; the heat of his voice was soft and loving. 

“O wert thou in the cauld blast, 

On yonder lea, on yonder lea, 

My plaidie to the aingry airt, 

I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee. 

Or did misfortune's bitter storms 

Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, 

The bield should be my bosom, 

To share it a', to share it a'. 

Or were I in the wildest waste, 

Sae black and bare, sae black and bare, 

The desert were a Paradise, 

If thou wert there, if thou wert there; 

Or were I monarch o' the globe, 

Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, 

The brightest jewel in my crown 

Wad be my queen, wad be my queen!” 

She swallowed hard, tears at the corner of her eyes as she whispered against his ear, “That was beautiful. Did you write that?” Bog chuckled deeply. “Nay, that were written by Robert Burns, a good Scotsmen who knew how to put love into words.” She shifted a bit to look into his eyes. “I love you, Bog.” He stroked her face. “I love you, lass. Would you consider staying in Scotland?” The smile that spread across Marianne's face was beautiful, the sun coming over the hills. “Yes, I would.” 

She moved off of him reluctantly and he stood, straightening out his kilt. After she got herself together they took each others hands. He pulled her close and kissed her lovingly before they started to walk back toward the thicket. That was when Roland suddenly stepped out of the forest darkness, the iron blade glinted in his hand. 

“Roland!?” Marianne yelped in surprise when she saw him. 

Bog instinctively grabbed Marianne, pushing her behind him as he started to transform. Marianne let out an angry curse as she yelled at Bog.“What the hell!” But in the next instant Roland came at Bog. The two men moved into the middle of the thicket, Bog trying to get Roland away from Marianne. The blade scored a hit along Bog's forearm; the pain was excruciating and it burned his flesh. He may be only half goblin, but iron had the same effect, just where it would instantly kill a full blooded fey it could still damage him badly and eventually kill him. Marianne threw herself on Roland's back as she tried to throw him off and grabbed at the dagger. She heard the angry buzz of Bog's wings as he had fully transformed. 

Roland snarled, arching to try to dislodge Marianne who twisted around, but kept a hold on Roland's wrist, throwing off his aim. Roland surprised Marianne by hitting her in the face with his elbow. The slam to her face missed her nose, but smashed her lip against her teeth, cutting against them. Marianne suddenly tasted blood in her mouth. Her grip loosened as Bog tried to make a grab for Roland's arm. 

Bog snarled, his mouth full of fanged teeth showed as he tried to grapple Roland, his now fully formed claws dug into Roland flesh as a growl ripped from Bog. Oddly, Roland did not react to the pain. He brought the blade up and slashed at Bog's neck, but the half goblin leaned out of the way just in time. Roland snarled and moved the blade down, this time scoring a hit as the iron blade slashed across Bog's chest. The smell of burning flesh rose up. Roland came at Bog again, who growled deep in his chest, baring his fangs as he dodged and slashed out at Roland. Bog was trying to keep Roland's full attention on him so that Marianne would be safe. The iron blade nicked along Bog's hand, causing Bog to yanked back his claws. 

Marianne hissed. She was not going to leave Bog to fight alone and she would be damned if she wasn't going to fight for him. She picked up a large fallen branch and took a swing. She hit Roland in the back of one leg. The leg buckled and sent Roland stumbling, slamming into Bog. Bog stumbled back, and Roland turned his fall into a lunge, burying the blade deep in Bog's chest, right under his collar. 

Bog stared into Roland's green eyes, not really feeling any pain, just shock, but this close Bog could see the darkness seeping through the green of Roland's eyes. He dropped to his knees as he grabbed the blade with one hand. Blood started to seep between Bog's clawed fingers as the iron blade hissed in his chest and against the flesh of his hand. His hand burned as he gripped the blade, but he was beyond feeling anything at all. Roland stumbled away as he left the blade in Bog's chest. Marianne screamed in rage and fear. She started to run to Bog, but as she passed Roland, Marianne turned quickly, wrapped her fingers into a fist and she slammed her fist into Roland's face so hard that he was thrown back, hitting the ground, out cold. 

“Bog! Bog!” She grabbed him before he fell, cradling him in her arms. She struggled to get him upright. He was breathing and awake, but his legs were weak. The iron embedded in him had forced him back to his human form. The iron blade had turned his skin black and that blackness was spreading outward from the wound. Marianne could not help but think of a Mordor blade as black streaks moved across his flesh. “We need to get you to a doctor!” Marianne panted, trying to get him to his feet. 

Bog groaned, trying to push her away.“No, go to the fairy circle and speak these words. Ah enter ay mah ain free will.” Marianne nodded as Bog continued. “You must find my mother, tell her I need help. An iron blade.” 

“I can't leave you here! Not like this!” Marianne begged. She felt weak for starting to cry in anger and frustration, but she couldn't stop the tears. Bog grabbed her shoulder. “Get me to the oak. I will be safe there, I promise.” 

Marianne looked unsure, but she nodded and with a great deal of effort, she got him to the grand oak tree where they had made love before all this started. She helped to lean him against the bark. Bog reached out to stroke her face, his pain filled eyes looking at her lovingly. “Thank you, but now go Marianne. Please hurry.” 

Marianne kissed him hard. “Don't you dare die on me or I will never forgive you!” Then she stood and took off at a run into the field and then stepped into the fairy ring as she snarled. “I enter of my own free will.” That was when she felt it, magic moved over her skin. It felt like a being of eletricity for a moment. She closed her eyes—she almost had to as the magic shimmered over her. When she opened them again, she was somewhere dark, the wood thick with a white fog that moved through the undergrowth. She saw a soft twinkle of tiny lights that danced through the branches and seemed to move with purpose. Thick vines wrapped around the tree branches and along the ground. Here and there flowers opened in the dim alien light, they shimmered with crystals on their petals and she could hear what sounded like distant singing. 

Marianne's eyes became huge as she looked around and muttered, “I don't think I am in Kansas anymore.”


	6. part VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the parents

Marianne's heart was racing. She had to save Bog; his life depended on her, but she had no clue where to go, and no time to wait around to see if someone or something showed up. Bog was hurt, possibly dying. She had finally found someone who made her happy and she would be damned if she was going to lose that, lose him. She loved him. Bog was worth fighting for and she was going to fight with everything she had. She stepped out of the circle just as the forest suddenly went quiet. She looked around slowly, staying still, listening. 

She knew that she was in danger here, a human alone. It's a damn enchanted forest, she thought to herself, god only knew what was running around in here. She looked around and saw a a nice, sturdy stick. She picked it up and swung it a few times to see if she was happy with it and then she looked around trying to figure out which way to go. She started to move forward, careful of her footing, when she heard a sound to her right. She turned that way and let out an embarrassingly loud yelp as two creatures stepped out of the plants. “Ew!” she yelped loudly as she looked at them, the sudden oddness of their appearance caused the exclaimation to leap from her mouth. One looked like a frog or fish (she could not be sure) while the other was very round and moldy green. They were bantering back and forth and stopped short when they saw her. 

She stood there with the branch up over her shoulder like a baseball bat and the two creatures stopped moving, staring up at her, seeing her and hearing her as the same time. Their eyes widened with shock. At the same time, Marianne decided that was a good moment to scream. She yelled, they yelled and turned around to run into the bushes. 

She stopped yelling and then cursed “Shit!” She took off after them yelling, “Hey!! Hey, hold on!! Bog sent me! I'm sorry!!!!” 

She stopped after running when she lost sight of them. The forest seemed to darken more, making her curse to herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!! She stood there looking dejected. She turned around slowly, her eyes wandering over the area. She could swear the branches of the trees had moved to block her return to the circle and that the atmosphere seemed to darken even more. The air was heavier and it felt for all the world that millions of eyes were watching her. Under her breath, Marianne cursed again, “shit, shit, shit...” 

Back near the thicket, Bog laid against the tree trunk, fighting to stay conscious. He was having trouble focusing, though all his thoughts were on Marianne. He cursed himself for sending her in there alone. The poison from the iron blade made him feel cold all over, especially at the spot where the blade had been buried in him. His eyes fluttered shut as his strength was draining—he was so cold and so tired. The oak seemed to bend around him, its branches trying to protect him. Bog didn't see the nuckelavee move into the clearing from the edge of the forest. The nuckelavee tilted its head studying the scene. 

It moved over to Roland first, touching its long fingers against Roland's chest and then turned to smile slowly at Bog. Bog did not see the creature, his eyes closed. The nuckelavee could smell the iron poisoning him. The nuckelavee studied the oak, an old tree spirit to be sure, but as he moved to circle it, he was sure that pulling Bog from its clutches would be easy. Then he would have what he needed to lure Griselda to him. He whistled, though there was no sound, the tune carried silently on the wind. Within moments, redcaps started to appear from the darkness. They were short and twisted creatures, in various sizes, their mouths full of teeth, their clawed fingers stained rust red like their caps with the blood of their victims. With a gesture, the nuckelavee motioned and the small, vicious creatures moved toward Bog and the tree hissing. The nuckelavee spit. 

“Kill the tree spirit and bring the half-breed to the water. Bring the human, as well. I want both unspoiled.” 

The creatures moved as one and swarmed over Bog and the oak. Bog responded weakly, his eyes flashed open and his goblin nature changed his feature swiftly, but he was too weak to fight back. The tree spirit shuddered, its branches writhing as the redcaps overcame it. They were too many and the spirit was too weak to resist so many enemies. As the nuckelavee turned to leave, he chuckled to himself. The creature heard the spirit's essence ripped to pieces by the redcaps and it smiled. 

The forest seemed to breathe eerily around her. Marianne figured that the best thing for her was to continue to move forward. She was desperate and desperate times called for doing desperate things, such as exploring an enchanted forest as you tried to find someone or something to help you. She felt like she had been wandering for hours, when suddenly she caught movement from the side. Marianne turned swiftly to one side, then around to her other side as she heard another rustle. For a moment she was reminded of the movie Labyrinth when the goblins first appeared to take Toby, popping out and disappearing in the bedroom scaring Sarah, before the appearance of the Goblin King, David Bowie. 

Though, she was not expecting David Bowie to pop up, she was expecting something much worse. She was pretty sure there would be no labyrinth and cute creatures to befriend. She pressed her lips together, adjusting her grip on the branch. That was when the air around her seemed to change, growing heavier yet. Then, as she turned once more to the right, she stopped short when she saw the shadows of two creatures, unmoving, the shadows simply stood watching her. She was more terrified than she had ever been as she tried to keep her voice steady as she hissed, “Who are you?” One of the shadows stepped forward and Marianne was startled to see what was clearly a goblin woman, but much shorter than Bog. She was squat with frizzy auburn hair and tiny eyes, wearing a shapeless dress. She didn't look like a queen at all. Her skin was the same color as Bog's would turn when his goblin nature showed itself. Marianne didn't move as the goblin woman looked her up and down. “I smell my boy on you. Who are you?” 

Marianne nearly collasped to her knees in relief. “Marianne,” she blurted her name without thinking, her relief almost made her cry. “Are you Bog's mother?” The other shadow stepped forward, a human male, much older than Bog, but clearly based on his features, this was Bog's father, a white haired, aged version of the son with the same startling blue eyes and long, lean figure. “Bog! Is something wrong with our son? Did he send you?” 

Marianne didn't waste time with pleasantries. “Yes, Bog was attacked with an iron blade! He sent me to get you. Please hurry!!” 

The goblin woman looked at the human and then back at her. “Bog sent you?” She seemed to chew this information over for a moment and then hissed. “Follow us.” 

The three of them moved swiftly. For Marianne, it was a blur, when suddenly she stepped over a branch and stumbled as she looked around realizing she was in the clearly where she had left Bog. The three of them stood there for a moment. Marianne gasped when she saw the oak where she had left Bog. It was ripped and dripping sap. It looked for all the world like a murder victim. The goblin woman hissed. “Nuckelavee...I smell him.” 

Marianne rushed over to the tree, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh, God, what happened? Where is Bog?!” 

Bog's father walked over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder, which startled her. “My wife...” He looked pointedly at the goblin woman. “Griselda, Bog's mother...Griselda thinks the nuckelavee took him.” 

“The nuckawhat? What is happening?” Marianne was starting to tremble in rage and fear. 

Griselda stepped forward. “It's a battle that's been brewing for many years. He finally made a move that he is going to regret,” Griselda snarled, glancing up at Bog's father. 

His father murmured, “I will head back, get the men. Griselda, wait for me?” 

Griselda looked up at him and took both his hands in her smaller three fingered ones. There was so much emotion in her eyes as she looked up at her husband, she squeezed his hands tightly for a moment. “Hurry, I will take the girl here and we will track them. I won't make a move until you return.” He nodded, leaning down to kiss her lips softly and brushing his nose against hers. “I will hurry. Be careful, my love.” 

Griselda smiled at him. “You too.” 

He turned and jogged back the way they had come, fading into the shadows. 

Griselda looked up at Marianne with a smile. “Never thought the day would come when my boy would find someone, but seems he made a good choice. Now—stay close.” Marianne nodded as Griselda started to move, following something Marianne could not detect. 

Bog woke to pain, more pain than he had ever felt before and he could not keep the scream from bursting out. He was held by shackles of thorns, other slippery, rotted plants that were embedded in each wrist and ankle. They held him so that he floated in the water with only his mouth above it enough for him to draw air. He blinked rapidly, his vision obscured by the greenish pond water. The iron wound still sapped his strength and the ice cold water was making it work faster. His body felt frozen as if his blood moved sluggishly through his veins. Over his heart was something he could not see, a slight greenish glow was the only thing he could detect as the water over his eyes made his vision waver. He was unable to move, but something moved at the edges of his sight, shadows at the corner of his vision and he heard a voice that sounded like the green slime that coated dead lakes.

“Ah, I see you have regained consciousness. That is good. I would not want you to miss what is to come.”


	7. VII

Roland awakened confused. He felt as if he had just been run throught the ringer, but with no idea what that ringer was. At first he thought that maybe he had a hang-over. His head pounded with a terrible headache. The last thing he remembered was drinking at the bar and trying to convince the townspeople that they had a monster among them. After that, everything was blurry. He screwed his eyes closed, then opened them again trying to clear his head and eyes. His eyes felt grainy and strange. As his eyesight became more focused, he realized he had no idea where he was or how he came to be here. He also realized he was tied to a tree near a body of water and it was freakin' cold! A ray of moonlight reflected off a watery surface. From what he could see from his position tied to the tree it was a lake of still, dark water. As his eyesight adjusted and he took in his surroundings better, he could see a figure under the water. Roland frowned, wondering for a moment if he was still unconscious and this was a dream. Narrowing his eyes, Roland tried to get a better look. For all the world, it looked as though someone was floating in the water, a dark shadow that flickered under the illumination of a sickly green light just under the surface.

As Roland stared, he could see other shadows moving around the still figure in the water, shadows that sent primeval shivers through him. The strange shadows moved in circles around the floating figure, as if standing guard. He could not remember why, but something told him there should be someone or something else here. Whatever that was, it wasn't here right now and he knew he should be glad of that. Roland knew, just knew, he only had a short amount of time to get loose, so he set about struggling to free himself from the tree. 

* 

By the time Griselda stopped moving, Marianne was good and lost. Where they had stopped, the trees looked to be moving toward them, the shadows alive as if she was back in the fairy realm. Marianne turned when she thought she heard the sound of Bog's voice—it was distant, but it was his. He murmured her name, the sound filled with pain. She was about to say something when his mother reached out laying a two fingered hand on her. “It's a trap.” 

No sooner than the words were out of Griselda's mouth than something long and dark slithered across the ground moving too quickly for Marianne to follow with her eyes before it had wrapped itself around her. Marianne let out a startled scream as whatever it was yanked her to the ground. She hit hard knocking all the breath from her. Grisleda snarled, moving to help her, but another shadow attacked the goblin woman from behind drawing her attention away from Marianne. Marianne struggled, kicking and fighting, but the shadow creature moved swiftly yanking her further and further way from Griselda. 

* 

The creature let go of her, flowing up into a humanoid form when it had separated Marianne from Griselda. She scrambled to her feet, backing away. She had no idea where she was, her eyes darting around frantically. The shadows that formed the creature pulled back to show a face, moving like oil over something white. The face that was revealed was horned along the edges and fanged, bone white, looking more like a mask than a face. Marianne screamed as the creature hissed at her, displaying row upon row of needle sharp teeth. 

She pushed back from the creature. She managed to push past her terror trying to think about defending herself and saving Bog. That was her focus—saving the man she loved. The fey flowed unnaturally like living water, undulating. Now that it was closer to her, she could smell decay, the sort of decay one experienced when near standing water with rotted vegetation, stagnant and dead waters. She threw herself sideways as the creature lunged forward, flowing at her, trying to wrap itself around her again. 

Marianne hit the ground hard, jarring hers shoulder painfully, but she kept rolling, putting some distance between herself and the creature. She surged to her feet, feeling around in the dead leaves and undergrowth for something, anything, she could use as a weapon. The fey turned to stare at her, hissing with an eerie wet sound. Bog needed her and she would be damned if she was going to let him down. That was when her hand wrapped around a good sized branch. 

* 

Griselda was slammed into a tree, the air knocked from her lungs in a painful whoosh. The creature, a twin of the one that took Marianne, stood before her. The shadows flowed away from the “face” its bone white smile showed long, wicked fangs. 

She dropped to the ground and rolled with the impact coming up again in a crouch. The small goblin woman was accustomed to fighting, having fought for her throne, her lover and her son. The crown she wore was one of bone from the horns of defeated enemies. Griselda was not going to let the Nuckelavee hurt her son. She rose to her feet in a fluid movement as the shadow fey circled her, flowing like water between the trees, moving swiftly toward her. It was looking for another chance to move in and strike, but Griselda was a seasoned fighter, a mother on a mission, and she would be damned if this fey was going to stop her from getting to her son. The goblin snarled, letting the creature come at her. 

* 

Back against the tree, Roland had managed to free himself. He stumbled forward dropping to his hands and knees, his limbs feeling heavy. As he held himself there trying to catch his breath, to get his mind to focus, trying to remember how he got here, sounds drew his attention to the water. He could hear a strange noise, water bubbling accompanied by the sound of someone struggling to breathe. He looked around confused. Standing up slowly, Roland walked closer to the pool of water. He peered in not seeing the strange shadows this time. He seemed to be alone but for the strange sounds and an odd glow coming from the water. 

It looked like a green gemstone, just floating in the water. He leaned dangerously forward over the water when he saw the figure, recognized it as the man who had been with Marianne. Roland scrambled back in shock. When nothing happened, he leaned forward again. Yes, it was him and he seemed to be breathing, bubbles coming from his mouth in a slow stream making a strange pop when they reached the surface. Looking at the gemstone it seemed to be beating, like a heart. It was positioned over the man's chest, beating slowly. 

Occasionally the man would thrash and spasm, but his eyes didn't open. 

Roland's own heart hammered hard in his chest. What the hell was going on? He didn't know what to do, but he felt that he had something to do with the man in the water being like that. He was trying to decide if he should just let him be and get the hell out of there or help him when a voice spoke, the words crawling up his spine. “Now how ever did you get free?” Roland twisted around to see a man standing there, but for a split second he saw something that wasn't a man, it was something else. The man that was not a man lashed out. Roland lost his footing and fell backwards into the water. When he hit the icy water, the cold seeped into his very bones and he saw shadowy horses moving at the edges of his vision. He twisted in the water trying to find the surface when he saw the man that was with Marianne. He was floating under the water, hovering on his back. Roland wasn't a hero; he was about self-preservation above all else, but even he had lines he did not want to cross. He reached out, wrapping a hand around the man's booted ankle and as he pushed to the surface he yanked the man with him. 

It was at that moment the shadowy creatures came at him wrapping around both him and the other man, trying to yank them apart. Roland tightened his grip on the other man's ankle. He didn't know why but he knew it was important that he not let go. 

* 

Marianne swung with all her might. The wood managed to hit the shadow fey's white face. The branch shattered, but she connected with its bone white mask, a crack appearing under the cheek. It wasn't much, but it did tell her that it could be hurt. She dodged its next attack as inky blackness shot out at her. She ducked and weaved, sprinting behind a tree. The creature hit the tree with a great wet sounding smack. She moved around the other side looking for something else to use as a weapon. The forest floor was covered in branches or rocks, nothing that looked like it would cause more than an annoyance to it, but it was all she had. Ducking low as the creature pulled back before striking at her, she reached down grabbing a rock as she passed and threw it. The rock sunk into the blackness of the thing, but did little else. Damn it, she thought and then remembered iron. Fairy are hurt by iron! But where could she find iron in the middle of a forest? 

* 

Slashing with her claws, Griselda ripped through a section of the shadow; the pieces melted away when disconnected from the creature. It snapped out, hitting her in the shoulder. She went down, but twisted getting to her feet, ducking as it came at her again. By the way it was attacking, she surmised that it had not been sent to kill her. The shadow fey kept pulling its strikes and when it had the advantage, it didn't take it. It must have been sent to capture, which meant that Bog was probably still alive. The Nuckelavee clearly wanted her. She narrowed her eyes in thought. Maybe letting it capture her was the answer to getting closer to her son. She stopped fighting. The shadow fey moved swiftly, wrapping around her until she thought she would lose the ability to breathe, then just as suddenly darkness filled her vision and she had no more clear thoughts. 

* 

Bog's father stumbled back through to the world of humans with a small army of goblins behind him. In the world of the fey he was known as the iron consort to queen Griselda. He liked the title. When their son had been born he was so proud, so happy. Now his son was in trouble and he would do everything in his power to save him and his wife. He turned to look at the group of goblins with him. All were armed and ready to defend their queen. He motioned and a small goblin with a large beak stepped forward. “Can you track her?” 

The small goblin took a few moments, tilting its head to one side and then the other with furtive sniffs through its beak then nodded. “This way, sire!” 

He smiled grimly, following.


	8. Chapter VIII

Marianne's back slammed up against a tree, knocking the air from her lungs, making her gasp for air. The creature started to flow toward her, the blackness of its body moving in such an unnatural way that it made her stomach turn. It hissed while it moved closer and then suddenly reared back. She frowned. It hovered, swerved, and undulated in place like a snake, not coming any closer to her, as if it waited for something indiscernible to her. 

Marianne's eyes darted around, but she couldn't see anything that would have stopped its continued attack, except for the tree itself. She dared to glance up; it was an Ash tree...ash tree...her jumbled mind tried to work, looking back. She heard something about fairies and ash trees...there was something...yes! Stories, fairy stories about what was harmful to fairies, iron—and ash wood! She couldn't remember the details of exactly what it was about ash trees that harmed fairies, but she didn't care! It was clear this one didn't like it. Hell! She was surprised she even recognized the damn tree, but she wasn't going to question anything at this point. She dug her fingers into the bark of the tree, ripping out a large piece of the trunk. 

She felt the bark scrape against her fingers and knuckles when she tore the piece from it, but now she had a weapon against it. 

The creature hissed louder, the fangs becoming more prominent. It was trying to scare her but she was armed with a long, sharp splinter of ash wood in her hand. The smile that spread across Marianne's face was almost feral. “Now it's even, buddy.” 

The fey reared back hissing as it divided itself, ribbon like tentacles forming from the creature. It snarled and lashed out at her. Marianne ducked and weaved out of the way of the thrashing tentacles using the large splinter like a short sword. She didn't know where the skills came from, but she wasn't going to doubt her ability to now fight this thing. 

The creature forced her to circle away from the ash tree, herding her in the opposite direction. She sneered at it, keeping her eyes on it while trying to look for an advantage. She took a step to the left when it suddenly whipped a long black tentacle out hitting her in the shoulder, cutting a deep slash across her shoulder. 

The pain and the power of the impact dropped Marianne to one knee, but she still managed to jerk her arm out with her makeshift weapon. As the ash wood slashed across the tentacle, the creature howled in pain, a sound that made Marianne's stomach twist with nausea. She pushed herself up, fighting past the nausea and aimed her piece of wood like a spear at the creature. She slipped on the ground, but her aim was true as the ash slipped from her fingers flying toward the creature and hitting it just under the bone white mask of its face. The ash wood slid into it like a hot knife through butter, smoothly and without stopping. The instant that the wooden tip sunk into the creature, its scream increased three-fold. It lashed about in the throes of agony. Marianne got to her feet and skidded backwards, getting out of the way. The creature dropped to the forest floor and started to screech and thrash violently. 

Marianne had to put her hands over her ears, sure they would start to bleed at the sound the creature made. She watched in fascinated horror while the creature writhed and then started to melt into the forest floor. Within seconds it was gone, her ash wood weapon the only thing left. 

* 

Roland struggled to make the water's surface. When he had plunged in after the floating man, it hadn't seemed that deep, but his perceptions were obviously off as it was quite deep and this creature (he couldn't get a good look at it but he would swear up and down that the weird thing had a horse's head) kept yanking him back. 

Roland managed to break the water's surface just long enough to snag a gulp of air before he was dragged back under. He dug his fingers hard into the other man's ankle trying not to let go when suddenly the man's leg jerked. The man kicked out so hard that Roland couldn't help but let go. The moment he did, the black creature released him. When Roland broke the surface, gasping for air, he saw that the creature had targeted the other man. Roland didn't know what to do. He had just decided to swim for the edge when the man broke the water's surface, struggling for air just as Roland had. Expect now he wasn't a man at all, but another creature!!! And he was covered in what looked like hard bark colored scales, all sharp edges and claws, then the creature roared and Roland screamed. 

Roland swam for the shore trying to get away as the monster attacked the black horse-headed things. Roland didn't want to look because all this simply couldn't be happening!! He swam as if his life depended on it, which it probably did! 

Bog was pulled from under the spell suddenly. It had hurt when the spell broke over him releasing him from its binding. That was when he realized he was under water and surrounded by kelpies! 

His transformation happened so suddenly that even he wasn't prepared, but then he was fighting for his life. The kelpies swarmed him when he regained consciousness. 

Bog's wings flared out, despite the pull of the water. When he broke the surface, Bog took in a hard breath of water before the kelpies pulled him down again. His claws lashed out. He own weight, his wings and the kelpies where dragging him down to the bottom of the pond, cutting his breath from his scaled body, but Bog didn't give up. He focused on keeping his heart rate down and he fought. One clawed hand ripped through the bottom jaw of one dark kelpie, tearing it from the creature. The horse head screeched in, pain yanking itself out of Bog's grasp and disappeared into the darkness of the water. The other one wrapped itself around his legs, fanged teeth biting through his armored hide into the flesh beneath and filling the water with his blood. Bog hissed in pain accidentally taking in some water and choking. His ey sight was hindered because of his blood staining the already dark water, but he could still manage to detect the movement of the enemy. 

He reached down, digging both clawed hands into the hide of the Kelpie, but the creature hung on tearing at Bog's leg. Pain raced up his limb, making it hard for him to focus; Bog was losing strength fast. From the corner of his eye, Bog saw movement above him where the water was disturbed by something hitting the surface. 

Bog was too busy trying not to drown or bleed to death when he saw Roland diving toward him. The sight of Roland was almost enough to cause Bog to lose focus. 

Roland saw Bog, wings, scales, claws, and jerked, bubbles coming out of his mouth in shock, but he quickly got over it—whatever was going on Roland knew this guy was the one whose side he needed to be on. Putting aside his natural inclination to worry only about himself, Roland dived toward the kelpie attached to Bog's thigh. Roland grabbed at the Kelpie, pulling on it's slick, almost slimy hide, which wasn't doing much but irritating the creature, though it did loosen its hold on Bog if only a fraction. Bog ripped himself free, tearing scales and flesh before he turned in the water and slashed at the kelpie. The creature was caught off guard just as Bog's claws ripped through its throat. Roland let go of the dark fey and immediately swam for the surface, his lungs screaming for air with Bog struggling right behind him. They both broke the water's surface gasping, breathing in deep gulps of air. 

Bog swam after Roland, but he was leaving a long trail of blood behind him, between the new wound in his leg, the multitude of scrapes, bruises and the still seeping wound from the iron blade, he was rapidly losing his strength. Roland got to shore, pulling himself onto the land through the muck and mud, coughing and hacking, struggling to breathe in the precious air. 

Roland turned to see that the creature, Bog, was having trouble. Roland almost got up and ran away, but something in him made him wade back out and take Bog's hand, helping to pull him the rest of the way to shore. Bog coughed up water, blood streaming away into the water, before rolling over to drop onto his back. He glanced sideways at Roland and asked in a rough voice, “Why did you help me?” 

Roland was lying on his back now too. “I have no fucking idea. And what the fuck are you anyway?” 

Bog chuckled. “Goblin.” 

Roland groaned. “Oh, well that makes perfect sense.” 

They both heard the sound of something moving swiftly through the trees. Bog lurched to his feet stumbling. “Hide,” he hissed at the human. Roland didn't have to be told twice. He took off into the woods throwing himself behind the biggest tree he could find. Bog moved swiftly finding a place where his natural coloring would hopefully give him an advantage. His hiding spot was near Roland's. Scanning the forest, following the sound, Bog saw something that made his blood run cold. 

The Nuckelavee stepped into the area, one of the dark fey behind him and within its grasp was Bog's mother. 

* 

Marianne moved swiftly, trying to figure out where she had left Griselda. The fight left her disoriented. She was trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her heart, but it was difficult because she was going to have to admit soon that she was lost. Tears started to fall down her cheeks and she angrily wiped them away while searching for some clue as to where she was or which way to go. 

She heard nothing; every direction looked the same to her. Just when she was about to panic, more angry tears falling down her cheeks and she was about ready to scream, something burst through the trees. 

Marianne held her piece of ash wood up in front of her when the creature appeared: sharped beaked nose, tiny eyes, dark brackish skin. It saw her and shrieked which brought several other creatures bursting from the forest around her. Marianne eyes were wide darting back and forth when suddenly Bog's father stepped out. “Marianne!” 

Marianne resisted the urge to throw herself into his father's arms, just barely. “Griselda! There were these two creatures....” 

She quickly related to Bog's father what had happened. The anger that grew in his eyes reminded Marianne of Bog. He took her hand in both of his, “Come with us. We will get them both back.” 

Marianne took a shuddering breath, but nodded. His father's face became even sterner as he muttered, “If Griselda gets hurt I'm going to tear that creature apart...” 

* 

The creature that held her dropped Griselda at the Nuckelavee's feet. He glared down at her, but there was part of him that still wanted her to love him. His eyes softened for a moment, but quickly those frail emotions were pushed away. 

Griselda fell flat when the fey dropped her, then slowly pushed herself up on her knees looking up at the Nuckelavee. “Where's my son, you bastard?” 

The Nuckelavee smiled a slow hideous smile. “It's been a long time, Griselda.” 

She staggered to her feet with narrowed eyes. “Where is my son?!” 

“I have him safe...for now...” His hand snatched out to grab her upper arm and yank her forward. “Would you like to see what I have in store for him?” 

He dragged Griselda with him. She stumbled, but quickly got her footing, her tiny eyes narrowed to slits. “This will not get you what you want,” she hissed. The Nuckelavee looked down on her. “What do you know of what I want now? I just want you to suffer the way you made me suffer!” 

She snarled back. “You didn't suffer!! Your pride suffered!!” 

The Nuckelavee shook Griselda hard enough to rattle her teeth. “You chose a HUMAN!! A HUMAN over me!!! You not only sullied yourself, but our people! The kingdom! Then you gave birth to that creature!!!” 

Griselda hissed. “MY SON! He is not a creature—he is my son!” 

The Nuckelavee threw her forward. Griselda landed on her knees in front of the pond, but that was when the Nuckelavee saw that Bog was gone, the pond only holding the bodies of his kelpies. 

“NOOO!!” 

Griselda smiled. Her boy was loose. No matter what happened to her, if her son was free, then she could die happy. 

* 

Bog saw the Nuckelavee with his mother. He jerked in response, but Roland was the one to put a hand on his shoulder stopping him. “Dude...ah, that thing...I don't think you can take it right now.” 

Bog turned to look at Roland in confusion. “Why are you helping me?” 

Roland frowned with an expression that said he wasn't really sure himself. “Look, that...that thing used me. And while I would still fight you for Marianne, I think we might want to work together to get away from that thing.” Roland gestured toward the Nuckelavee. 

Bog nodded. “Thank ye. Though I don't think ye stand much of a chance with Marianne.” 

Roland smirked. “Yeah, you're probably right....know any nice, non-fairy Scottish girls?” 

Bog stared at the man for a moment before he was forced to stifle a laugh. “I'll see what I can do fer ye.” 

Roland grinned, but then the two men's attention was brought back to the Nuckelavee and Bog's mother. The creature lost control when he saw the dead kelpie. The howl that rose from its throat was terrible. Roland was forced to cover his ears while Bog cringed, but otherwise didn't react. Roland gazed out in shock unable to look away as the Nuckelavee's human vistage started to fall away, its skin shredding to reveal the muscles underneath. It's lower body started to vibrate which made it hard for Roland to focus as what resembled a skinned horse attached to the bottom of the Nuckelavee appeared. 

Roland couldn't stop himself from vomiting at the sight of the creature. Bog pulled him back laying a hand between the other man's shoulders hoping the Nuckelavee didn't hear him. That was when there was a loud noise from the east on the other side of the Nuckelavee's pond. 

Bog's eyes widened when he saw several goblins break through the undergrowth, and then he saw his father, but what really set Bog's heart pounding was the sight of a bloody and beaten Marianne carrying a piece of wood like a weapon. Bog stood up when he saw her...Marianne. She looked like a Celtic goddess from legend, her hair wild, her eyes flashing...the Nuckelavee shrieked to the skies and attacked.


	9. Chapter 9

The Nuckelavee, in that instant, saw all his plans falling away like so much dust and ash, crumbling before him. Everything that he had waited for and planned were falling apart because of a human woman and a fucking half-breed. He roared, “TO ME!” then he roared again in plain and undisguised hatred, charging straight at Marianne. Bog's eyes widened at the realization that the creature was going for his beloved. He pushed up, once again changing into his goblin form; with a roar he took flight after the Nuckelavee. 

Bog's father gave orders, the goblins swarming past him to attack while he made his way to his wife and queen. Griselda started to get to her feet, but the swirling mass of the dark fey with the skull face slammed into her. At the moment he made contact with her, four more similar creatures rose from the rotting forest floor. The goblins swarmed to their queen, flooding over the dark fey and Griselda. Her husband pulled out his own weapon, a small but deadly looking dagger and started to slash and hack his way to his wife. Griselda resorted to claws and teeth, the creatures twisting about her trying to cut off the air from her lungs, crush her body. 

Her subjects fought with the viciousness of cubs protecting their mother, biting, slashing, tearing off bits and pieces of the black inky bodies of the creatures, sending eerie howls of pain into the forest. 

* 

Roland struggled for a moment, fight or flight, but soon the decision was taken from him when something hit him from behind. Roland was flung forward by the impact, slamming into the ground, leaves and detritus filling his mouth and nose for a moment. Coughing and hacking, Roland turned around just as a group of creatures came at him. His eyes bulged when he saw the three creatures rushing at him, seeming to have formed from the dead leaves and rotted wood around him. 

Their mouths were large, too large for their heads, they had no visible torsos, only one large leg and foot with a single arm, the top of their heads covered in the blackest of feathers. Roland screamed, scrambling to his feet and running out toward the pond, the dark, evil creatures giving chase. One of the goblins, a large muscled brute the size of a boulder saw the creatures after Roland and snarled. “Fachen!” He took off in that direction leaving the group he was with to fight the liquid-like fey. 

* 

The Nuckelavee charged Marianne. She took a fighting pose, her weapon held at the ready when a shadow fell over her. That was when Bog flew over her, slamming into the Nuckelavee. The two of them rolled over and over, deeper into the shadows of the trees. Marianne let out a startled yelp, but swiftly gave chase, her heart hammering. Bog was alive! 

She raced over, finally catching sight of the two fey locked in a difficult struggle, their bodies twisting and moving with a speed her human eye couldn't properly track. 

The Nuckelavee bit Bog in the shoulder with it's horse's head while it tried to rip through Bog's natural armor, his powerful fingers finding the soft places between plates and his hooves ripping at Bog's stomach. Bog snarled in anger and pain. He dug his claws into the exposed muscle of the Nuckelavee's back, ripping at the flesh. The two fey rolled, the Nuckelavee's horse head snapped at Bog's middle, cracking the shell covering of his stomach, hooves kicking while the Nuckelavee's hands reached for his face scrambling to rip at Bog's eyes. 

Bog kicked, ripping clawed toes down its side as the Nuckelavee backhanded, Bog snapping his head back, cracking against the ground at the same moment the larger fey's hooves lifted to kick him in the chest. 

Marianne let out a battle cry, her piece of ash her only weapon, but she swung it like a mighty sword. She cut across the creature's upper torso, slamming her makeshift weapon along its belly, burning and blackening the flesh. The Nuckelavee roared in pain and savage rage, reaching for her and grabbing Marianne's wrist, squeezing hard and fast until the thin bones cracked. She screamed as she felt her wrist crushed in the grip of the hideous creature, but despite the pain she didn't lose her grip on the ash bark. 

* 

The large goblin came barreling at Roland and the creatures that ripped at him. Roland was struggling to protect his face, his arm brought up to defend himself as the Fachen tried to rip his eyes out or bite at his nose. The goblin slammed into one Fachen, slamming the fey to the ground where it repeatedly pounded its huge fist into the fey's face, splitting skin and breaking teeth. The other Fachen left the whimpering Roland to focus on the goblin. The huge goblin ripped one of the Fachen in half, blood spurting everywhere, decorating the dead leaves in bright, too bright red. Roland screamed as his face was splattered with blood. One of the Fachen had the good sense to flee while the other hissed and snarled, running at the huge goblin who crouched down and hit the Fachen with the full-force of the goblin's strength. Roland had had too much, and simple passed out. 

* 

Across the way, Bog's father was fighting one of the liquid fey. He was trapped by its body wrapped around him like a long, sinuous serpent trying to crush the air from his lungs. The goblins were fighting the others trying to pull them off their queen when suddenly Griselda burst free. She snarled, surprising everyone as she flung herself at the creature holding her husband. “Griselda!! Get back!” 

“Erskine, shut up!” Griselda snarled as she struggled with the creature. Her husband snarled in pain and she heard the audible crack of one of his ribs. 

Griselda spit and though her teeth were not fanged like her son, she took a bite out of the fey ripping at its liquid flesh. The creature screamed loosening its grip on her husband while the other goblins dug in, ripping and biting at the enemy fey, tearing them to sheds. 

* 

The Nuckelavee turned its attention from Bog, knowing the best way to defeat the half-breed was to kill the human woman he prized then to end his suffering with having to know that half-breed existed! With a struggle the Nuckelavee surged to its feet, letting her wrist go the horse head hit her in the chest knocking her completely off her feet and sent her flying backwards. As Marianne's back slammed painfully into another tree, she dropped the ash wood. 

All the air left her lungs in a whoosh and she dropped to the ground, struggling to catch her breath while the Nuckelavee bore down on her. Bog struggled to his feet, bloody and bruised, but he took to the air dipping down to grab the ash. It burned in his hand, but he ignored the blackening pain. “GET AWAY FROM HER!!” Bog bellowed, gripping the ash with both hands as he dropped onto the Nuckelavee's back and plunged the wood deep into the groovy of spine between its humanoid back and its horse's back. The wood cut through like a hot knife through butter, lancing deeply into the Nuckelavee's body. 

The fey jerked, his eyes going wide and dropped forward onto his equine knees. Bog shoved down as hard as he could, pushing the ash wood clear through the Nuckelavee's body before he let go and stepped back, the palms of his hands blackened and blistered from the wood. 

Bog rushed to Marianne, stumbling as he dropped to his knees. “Marianne?” 

She smiled painfully up at him. “I'm alright, Bog.” 

Bog started to tremble, his many wounds and the relief that she was not mortally wounded flooding over him until he almost collapsed, but Marianne managed to grab him, wrapping her uninjured arm around him and holding on tightly. “I have you Bog. I have you...” 

* 

Griselda's husband collapsed into her arms once free, the small of vicious goblin army having shredded the fey to pieces, and the death of the Nuckelavee was enough to send the others fleeing, escaping back into the realm of fairy tales and darkness. The large goblin that had defended Roland stepped over to his lieges carrying the human's unconscious form in his brawny arms. Griselda frowned at the blonde human and the goblin grinned a wide smile. “Can I keep him?” 

* 

When Bog came to he was lying in a room in a bed that he didn't recognize. He was still in his goblin form, but what he noticed more acutely was that lying beside him was Marianne. He choked when he saw her, his eyes stinging with tears. Her head rested on his chest, an arm around his middle and she was asleep. She was alive and she was whole. He swallowed on the sudden, intense well of emotion that threatened to over come him. 

Taking a slow breath to calm his emotions, he relaxed. He could feel the healing magics that had been applied to his wounds, that faint itch of them working and the smell of lavender. 

He reached up and stroked his clawed fingers through her hair, careful not to jostle her. She was safe and here with him. He took a deeper breath, relieved. 

“Your mother left a tea for you to drink when you woke up,” Marianne whispered. Bog chuckled then winced slightly with the pain of even the mild laughter. Marianne sat up, turning around to pick up the tea that sat on a simple wooden table. When she handed it over he noticed it was clearly a goblin made clay cup with a lid that resembled a mushroom cap. He also noticed that though her wounded arm had been bandaged, she could use it well enough already, a true testament to the healing power of the fey. 

When she lifted the lid, he could smell chamomile and lemon balm from the heated water. He sat up gingerly and sipped the tea, holding it in his clawed hands delicately. Marianne insisted he drink it all before she would take it away from him. Then she gently shoved him back down which, caused him to chuckle again. 

He laid down, twitching his wings around to find a comfortable position before reaching for her. She giggled softly snuggling up against him, reaching down to cover them both with a blanket. 

“Did everyone make it?” he asked in a whisper. 

Marianne nodded. “Yes. Even Roland. Seems like, Brutus? I think that was the goblin's name...Anyhow, he seems to have taken a liking to Roland. He is trying to convince your mother that he should be allowed to keep him.” 

Bog laughed then winced. “What does Roland say?” 

“You mom has him...sedated? I guess the magical equivalent to it. She is trying to decide what the best thing to do with him would be. Make him forget everything or let him keep his memories and hope he tells no one...or keep him here. She wanted to wait until you were awake before we decide.” 

Bog nodded. “Brutus wants him, eh?” He laughed, then he kept laughing and laughing, all the tension and fears just flooded over and he started to laugh harder despite the pain. Marianne giggled, then slowly laughed more as the image of Brutus and Roland became stronger. Soon the two of them were laughing so hard and loud that the door to their room opened to reveal Bog's mother and father standing in the doorway. 

Bog sobered for a moment as he grinned at his parents, but then he started laughing again. The laughing was clearly becoming painful. Everything came crashing in at once and he couldn't stop himself from laughing. Marianne wrapped her arms tight around him holding him when she realized this was not just humor, that Bog was having a break down. She held on tightly to him while Griselda swiftly left the room. Bog's father came over, sitting at the foot of the bed and patting his son's scaly knee. Bog looked at his father with those blue eyes, tears pouring from them as he laughed. 

Griselda returned within a moment holding a cup that resembled a large clay beer stein. She carried it over to Marianne. “Here, have him sip on this dear. You too—the shock hasn't hit you yet.” 

Marianne lifted a brow at her. “It will, but drinking this will help you both,” Griselda said simply. 

Marianne held it, helping Bog—whose laughing was looking more and more stressful—take a sip of the golden brown liquid inside the stein, and then another. She took a sip herself, feeling the calming magic of the drink. It actually tasted good, like warm honey over butter, but with a slightly bitter aftertaste. 

Bog soon stopped laughing, taking a few deep breaths. 

“Thank ye, Mamm.” He sniffed, swallowing. He looked so pale. Griselda could almost feel the mark on his soul. 

His mother nodded. “You two rest some more. Your Da here will be cooking for everyone tonight.” Griselda grinned. 

His Da winked. “I'll make yer favorite, son.” 

With that, his parents left and he started to feel dozy again. Marianne curled up against him. “You alright?” 

“Yeah...sorry.” Bog frowned, but Marianne lifted up to kiss him. 

“Don't be sorry Bog.” 

“I never killed anyone before...” he murmured softly. 

“It's alright. You had to...” She kissed the sides of his mouth, then his lips, rubbing her nose against his sharply pointed one. 

“You still love me?” His blue eyes burned in the dimly lit room. 

“Yes, never stopped. You were forced to kill him, Bog. It wasn't your choice. You're not a monster,” she assured him with a determined expression on her face. She brushed the tips of her fingers along his jaw and down his neck. 

“I feel like one...I look like one,” he whispered. 

“You have never been, nor will you ever be a monster, Bog.” Marianne tilted his face towards her and kissed him, a kiss she quickly deepened by sliding her tongue into his mouth. Bog was shocked, considering how he looked at the moment, but he gave in to her returning her kiss. The drink finally kicked in, the magic running through their blood just as their kissing was becoming more heated, 

Bog's clawed hands had started to pull her pants down to run the flat of his hand over her flesh when they both became incredibly drowsy. They fell asleep again, wrapped snugly around each other. 

* 

Bog awoke first. He snorted in surprise as he realized that he had returned to his human form. He smiled, holding the woman he loved tightly. She was sleeping deeply, her head against his chest. 

There was a light knock and then the door opened a crack, revealing his mother's face peeking inside. When she realized he was awake, she smiled and slipped in. 

“How are ye doing?” She kept her voice low to avoid waking Marianne. 

“Better. Sorry about before...” Bog murmured. 

His mother shrugged. “Killing is not an easy thing, son. It should never be taken lightly,” she said gravely. “I was proud of you back there in that glen. I'm sorry my troubles from me past affected you and your girl, but I'm proud with how you stood up.” 

Griselda grinned then inclined her head toward Marianne. “And you chose a good woman too, son. She went through two realms for you and fought her way to your side. If you wanna marry her, you have my blessing.” 

Bog grinned squeezing the sleeping Marianne gently. “I would love to marry her Mamm, but...I don't know...” 

His expression suddenly fell. “Would she wanna live out here, where there is nothing, to straddle two worlds? And if'n she did say yes...children...who knows what we would get....I don't think I could do that to her.” 

Marianne muttered. “Why don't you ask my opinion on the matter instead of making the decision for me?” 

Bog jumped nearly a foot when she spoke and Griselda broke out into a laugh. Marianne rubbed her eyes before pushing up to a sitting position. “You asked me once if I would stay in Scotland with you...you gonna take that back? I mean, if you want to get married, my answer is yes, but if you're going to be a big jerk about it, then I am going to have to kick your ass and still marry you.” 

Marianne narrowed her brown eyes at Bog, challenging him to defy her. 

Griselda was still choking on a laugh as she replied. “You are going to make a great daughter-in-law!” 

Marianne beamed at Griselda which caused a laughing Bog to put his hands up in surrender. “I know when I've been beaten.” He smiled and looked at her intently with his bright eyes. “Marianne Fairfield...will ye stay here and be me wife?” 

“Oh yes...yes I will Bog King, I will.” 

* 

Their first ceremony was held in a glade, performed by the goblins' queen, Bog's mother, with his father standing at his son's side. Roland and all the goblins stood at attendance. Marianne was dressed in fairy finery: a wreath of heather in her hair, her dress, the color of violets trailed behind her with a train long enough to fit a princess. She held a bouquet of Scottish heather and harebells. 

They didn't exchange rings, instead each gave the other a necklace and each necklace held a charm in the shape of a Celtic love knot on a chain of silver. The necklaces were enchanted to never break unless their love broke. Plum, in her true form, a sparkling blue fey, blessed their union with a sprinkle of fey magic that made them both sneeze. 

As the sun set in the fairy realm, Bog's and Marianne's hands were joined, a ribbon of red tied around their joined hands by his mother. 

The celebrations went on for days. Fey creatures from all corners of the realms came to the celebration of the goblin prince's marriage to a mortal woman. 

Vows were renewed by other couples in order to tap into the luck and love of the new couple. Fairy and goblin wine ran freely and many a new babe was to be born in the following months. 

* 

Roland was given a choice. He could have his memories taken, or he could stay with the goblins, never to return to the world of man. Roland had saved Bog, but it was agreed by all that no one trusted him enough to keep their secret. 

He surprised everyone by choosing to stay. His new friend Brutus grinned brightly at his side. Roland actually seemed quite pleased with his decision. 

Griselda told Bog not to worry about Roland's disappearance from the outside world...a little bit of glamour, a word in the right ear, and Roland Knight would be on a trip to find himself, with no one the wiser. 

* 

The happy couple, when they returned to the mortal plane, they were force to endure a second ceremony (thought none of the humans were aware of the first ceremony) which was held months later in their village square. Everyone attended from both worlds (though the goblins used glamour to blend in). Marianne's father, her sister and her sister's boyfriend Sunny attended, bringing many family and friends with them. Marianne spent a great deal of her time holding her husband's hand and letting him mumble curses in a very thick Scottish accent. 

A year later they were blessed with the birth of their first child, a little boy they named Baran, who surprised his parents, when, on the morning of his first birthday, he sprouted a pair of beautiful dragonfly-like wings. 

* 

Marianne sat on the porch of their cottage watching Bog out in the field with their son, his pipe in his mouth, teaching Baran how to fly. She was smiling, remembering the day she found this grumpy man who said he was too tired to chop her up as he let her into his cabin to get out of the rain. She laughed when Bog threw Baran into the air, then changed form into his goblin guise to grab his son out of the air and doing a circle in the air that had the little boy squealing with joy. 

She had never in a million years thought her life would end up like this, but she would be forever grateful to Roland for breaking her heart so that she could come to this magic land and have it mended by a goblin.


End file.
